


your body drowning in gravity

by LadyVictory



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bartender Anya, Bartender Lexa, Depression, F/F, Grief, Minor Character Death, Multi, Polyamory, Threesome - F/F/F, University Professor Raven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-17 13:46:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8146258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVictory/pseuds/LadyVictory
Summary: Raven moves forward and hugs them both quickly, like she isn’t sure how to adequately express her gratitude in words, her relief palpable.She lays a quick kiss on Anya’s cheek as she pulls back.“Thanks for everything. That was a pretty badass haymaker,” she adds, winking as she turns, amusement genuine.Before Anya can respond, Raven’s two companions stumble into the alcove, arms around each other, clearly tipsy.****Of all the gin joints in all the City, Raven had to walk into Anya's...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamsheartstory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsheartstory/gifts).



> AN 1: This is a (belated) birthday gift for dreamsheartstory. RL has been interfering with finishing it quickly, but I have it mostly done. Should have the next bit posted next week!
> 
> AN 2: I never do Modern AUs but dreamsheartstory wanted an Anya-as-a-bartender story so here it is...
> 
> AN 3: SUPER unedited. I will fix that when I post the second part.
> 
> AN 4: This story does have mentions of death and characters dealing with that intense grief.

This is the tenth time in as many weeks that _The Girl_ has come into the bar during Friday Happy Hour.

The first time, she'd come in with a girl just barely old enough to order a drink and a handsome boy with a smile too charming to be anything but calculated. She’d worn dark jeans, a tank top, and a red plaid shirt and spent the evening trading off rounds and flirting casually with both her companions, ending the night hoisted over the man's shoulder. (Anya noticed the brace then, matte black and dull gray, wrapped around the girl's left leg from ankle to hip, and was surprised at how well the girl seemed to move in it.)

The second time she came in with another boy - this one bright eyed and hopeful, with short tousled dirty blonde hair and a nervous grin - but there were less smiles that time and more low, tense conversation, which ended with the man leaving alone (Anya was impressed that he paid the tab first), a forlorn look on his face. The girl had stayed and finished another two drinks, and after she harshly rebuked a tipsy frat-bro's advances, Anya made sure she was left alone.

After that the girl came in a couple of times a week, alone or with the first man, who would stay about an hour (they would flirt shamelessly with each other, but it was over the top and never got further than words exchanged and exaggerated winks and nudges) before leaving her at the bar. She would drink and chat with her bar neighbors, before inevitably making her way to sit in front of where Anya liked to station herself (bar right of the taps, with a view of the door and also the booths against the wall).

At first Anya would smile politely and fill the girl’s order, but after a few times, the bartender couldn’t help but be drawn into conversation.

She learned the girl was an aeronautical mechanical engineer, who was newly hired at the University’s Aerospace Engineering Program as an adjunct professor. She learned the girl liked watching classic horror movies (something they shared in common) when she was sick, liked music without lyrics when she was working but was ‘ _down for karaoke anytime, anywhere_ .’ She liked her sipping drinks sweet even though they gave her headaches if she had too many, her whiskey straight, and her beer ‘ _no lighter than a roach’s ass._ ’

In return, over the course of a few weeks, Anya told the girl that when she wasn’t at the bar, she made things out of wood - custom furniture for money, and sculptures for pleasure. She told her that she and Lexa, who likes to paint and work with metal, completely renovated their apartment so that there were complicated pathways and ledges for their cat to climb and lounge on above their heads.

After the sixth time the girl popped in and monopolized Anya's time, Lexa couldn’t help but tease Anya about her interest, asking if she should buy another toothbrush for their bathroom. Anya had bitten her lover hard enough to leave a bruise (but no harder than she liked) and Lexa left it at that, though she continued to wear a smug look anytime she saw them chatting.

 

The girl ( _Her name is Raven_ , Lexa whispers in her ear, trying to get a rise out of Anya, because even though they had spoken many times now Anya hadn’t initially asked the girl her name or overheard anyone say it, and after a while she felt it would be rude) is back sitting in her usual spot, as is her barely legal friend from her first visit.

The two are joined by a third girl - a blonde with bright blue eyes and the sort of smile Anya knows that Lexa goes stupid for. The blonde laughs at something Raven says, and Anya gives Lexa a meaningful look and a raised eyebrow, knowing exactly the brunette's type, but her lover only shrugs and runs her hand over the small of Anya back as she hurries past to fill an order.

Anya is called to the opposite end of the bar by a group of handlebar mustache having, tank top and floppy hat wearing hipsters who order PBRs and Maker's Mark (so annoyingly cliche, but they pay her bills), but she keeps her eye on the group of girls. Just in case.

A half hour later, there is a commotion at the end of the bar. The girl - _Raven_ , Anya's mind reminds her helpfully - laughs as she looks a pair of men up and down before dismissing them with a wave of her hand.

The men - fuckboys if there ever were any, one clean shaven and the other sporting a sad little scraggle of a goatee - look affronted, and refuse to leave. The one with the scraggle actually stomps his foot a bit and the baby face one reaches out to touch Raven's blonde friend on the shoulder.

Anya is moving before he makes contact, but Raven must have been keeping watch out of the corner of her eye because she has his wrist in what looks like a painful grip lightning fast.

“You’re gonna want to be moving to the other side of the bar,” she says casually, but Anya bites back a smile at the steel in her tone.

“Whoa, hey, sorry. I was only-” the guys starts, but Raven snorts and interrupts.

“Only about to leave? Yeah dude, excellent. See you never.”

She lets go of his wrist and glares until they slink across the room, muttering ‘ _bought her a drink_ ’ and ‘ _only wanted to talk_ ’ and ‘ _wasn’t even saying anything to that bitch_.’

Anya smiles wide now, and the next time she sees the group's drinks are low she refills them without a word.

Things pick up and she doesn’t have time to check up on them for another hour, and when she does, Raven is gone and the other two are gazing into each other’s eyes like there isn’t anyone else in the room.

Anya rolls her eyes, because Jesus how high school first crush, but frowns when she notices Thing One and Thing Two, who had taken up residence at the dartboard but continued to glare daggers at the girls, are also gone.

There is a temporary lull (Anya knows it won’t last long, but the bad feeling in her gut tells her she has to go now), so Anya catches Lexa's eye and indicates that she is going out for a break. Lexa nods, already turning towards a woman who wobbles on ridiculous heels and waves obnoxiously (she’ll probably order something complicated and syrupy sweet too, Anya just knows the type).

There are a few people loitering out front having a smoke and none of them are Raven, so Anya skims the side of the building to loop into the small alley.

There is a little alcove with 3 chairs and a few potted plants in the back that employees - and some customers in the know - use to smoke. She finds Raven and the two man-boys there, standing in a loose triangle - almost a Mexican standoff, except that there are two of them and one of her.

Raven seems unconcerned though, almost bored. She holds a cigarette pinched between two fingers (Anya notices it’s the thumb and middle finger of her right hand, the detail striking her oddly in the moment) and takes an easy pull.

“You didn’t have to be such a cunt,” one of the boys - baby face - is saying.

“Cut the shit, dude,” Raven snorts. “You were being an asshole. And you have zero chance with either of them, you know that.”

Scraggle goatee stalks forward, grabbing Raven’s arm roughly.

“Just because your uncle’s-” he starts to say, but Anya is moving without realizing again, and a moment later there is a thick thud and the boy is sprawled out on the floor.

“Jesus!” baby face shouts, backing up a step.

“Fuck,” scraggle goatee mutters, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

Anya has managed to split the inside of his cheek. She smiles, flexing her fist open and closed to ease the ache.

“Leave,” she commands, vocabulary shrinking with the adrenaline of the moment.

“You fuckin’ serious right now?” the boy on the ground asks, incredulous. “I’m gonna sue your ass, and this fuckin’ bar!”

Anya is not impressed. She crosses her arms over her chest and glares, not bothering to respond with words.

Scraggle goatee jerks to his feet, glaring daggers at both the women.

Sensing his friend about to make a big mistake, baby face moves forward and tugs on his elbow.

“Murphy…” he starts, but scraggle-goatee-now-Murphy shakes him off.

“I fucking swear to Christ bitch, you are so fucking done.”

Anya smiles, the expression containing absolutely zero mirth.

“I’m giving you the opportunity to leave now. Take it. Because this goes one of two ways.” She stalks forward, getting into Murphy’s face. “Either you leave now and never come back, or, I call the cops.”

“You hit _me_ , you dumb bitch! _Please_ fucking call the cops! Please, go ahead!” Murphy yells in Anya’s face.

Nervous, Raven moves closer to her maybe-sort-of-friend-cum-savior, so that their shoulders touch and the other woman knows she is not alone. Anya looks over briefly and offers a nod and a small, genuine grin, before turning back all business again.

“Come on Murphy. Let’s just bounce man,” baby face cajoles, trying to step between Anya and his fuming friend. “It isn’t worth it.”

“Fuck. That.” Murphy grows between clenched teeth, and if looks could kill, both women would be stricken dead.

“You are a fool and should listen to your friend, _Murphy_ ,” Anya taunts, just wishing the idiot would try something.

Murphy looks as if he is going to swing for a moment, but then seems to think better.

“You know what, lemme call the cops for you. Seeing as you’re the one that fuckin’ hit _me_ , let's get them here and see what’s what.”

“Murphy…” Raven starts, clearly worried, but Anya reaches down and briefly lays a gentle hand on the other woman’s forearm.

“Feel free. But you should know that there are two camera’s out here.”

Murphy hesitates with his phone out. He frowns.

“Yeah. And?”

Anya raises an eyebrow and cocks her head to the side.

“And, what exactly do you think that the cameras and mics will have picked up before I got here?” she asks.

Immediately Raven relaxes at her side, and Anya snorts, hating that she was right about what she walked into.

“Murphy,” baby face says again, less cajoling and more urgent now. “Let’s go man.”

“That’s… that’s illegal. You can’t record me without my permission…” Murphy says, but it is hesitant, more like a question.

The two men jolt, looking startled, and Anya feels a strong presence on her other side and a warm hand on her lower back.

“Actually, we can. That is a security camera on our place of business,” Lexa says, voice even.

“But, the mic.” Murphy tries again.

This time Raven speaks up. “Technically it is on the outside of the building. That’s within their rights too.”

“But even if there was no sound, I would wager you don’t want the police to have a private viewing.” Lexa sounds oh-so-reasonable, and even without looking Anya knows the expression on her face. (Mild, bored, with just a hint of danger in the eyes - Anya taught her that look.)

Murphy turns red, enraged, but backs down. Sucking his teeth in disgust, the man moves forward, making sure to shoulder check Lexa hard enough to draw an involuntary grunt, and it takes all of Anya's considerable self control not to rip the man apart with her bare hands for daring.

When the two boys are gone Raven turns to Anya, visibly sagging a little.

“You could’ve gotten hurt,” she scolds, surprising both of the other women.

“Me?” Anya asks, looking at Raven like she has lost her mind.

Raven flicks the wasted ash nub that was her cigarette away impatiently.

“Yeah, you. Murphy’s an asshole, and he loves to try and scare me if he can, but he wouldn’t have done anything.”

Anya blinks, slow and hard, looking at Lexa to see if she is hearing right. Lexa shrugs but otherwise looks content to see this play out.

“He grabbed you,” Anya says, as if that explains everything. Because for her, it does.

“Yeah. And he would’ve had a sore fucking sack for it.”

Lexa snorts but stays silent.

Anya cuts her eyes to the side a moment, annoyed at the amused interest she sees in her lover’s face.

“Two against one seemed like uncivilized odds to me,” Anya tries again, more bemused than she cares to admit at the Raven's ambivalence.

Raven grins, shrugging. “Unfair that they didn’t have backup, for sure.”

Anya huffs, exasperated, and Raven's expression turns a bit guilty.

“Look, thanks, okay? I appreciate you coming in like the cavalry, even if it wasn’t needed.”

It dawns on Anya that there is something she is missing - that this isn’t a wounded pride or over inflated sense of capability at work.

“You know them?”

Raven grimaces, left hand coming up to rub absently at the back of her neck as she jerkily shifts from foot to foot (never resting her weight long on the left, braced, leg).

“Yeah. Atom and Murphy. They… they work for my uncle.”

Anya and Lexa say nothing, and Raven sighs impatiently.

“He runs a pool hall on the other side of town. Pretty much why I wandered into your place. I was tired of having to deal with morons like them if I wanted to unwind. Your joint usually has higher standards in clientele.”

“We try to curate respectable regulars,” Lexa agrees, and Anya rolls her eyes because she knows this is Lexa's way of nudging.

“Wouldn’t surprise me if they followed me here, honestly. They-”

Before she can continue, there are loud feminine voices calling down the alley leading to them.

“Raven? Raaaaae?”

“How many cigarettes do you need, Reyes?”

Suddenly nervous, Raven looks at the two women pleadingly.

“Can we just forget this? I’ll owe you…”

Anya hates that the look on the Raven's face is enough to get her to agree, but it is. She nods curtly.

“If you prefer,” Lexa agrees, sounding worried.

“Thanks. Seriously, it’s okay, I just don’t wanna ruin their night.”

Raven moves forward and hugs them both quickly, like she isn’t sure how to adequately express her gratitude in words, her relief palpable.

She lays a quick kiss on Anya’s cheek as she pulls back.

“Thanks for everything. That was a pretty badass haymaker,” she adds, winking as she turns, amusement genuine.

Before Anya can respond, Raven’s two companions stumble into the alcove, arms around each other, clearly tipsy.

“Jesus guys, I leave you alone for like five minutes and you get sloppy. What the hell?” Raven jokes, tone only a bit strained.

“Clarke was convinced you were out here chain smoking and drunk dialing Wick,” the small brunette cackles, detaching from the blonde to wander over and snuggle into Raven.

“ _Octavia_ was convinced that you were getting into trouble. _I_ was fine staying in the bar and waiting for the call to come bail you out.”

“Thanks a lot, Princess.”

Clarke sticks out her tongue and Octavia whines and tries to climb Raven like a tree. She fails, seeming to remember at the last moment that Raven probably can’t support her weight, and settles for molding herself to the woman’s side instead.

“You’re tall. S’why I like you. You’re tall and you smell nice.”

“You are completely sauced, Baby Blake,” Raven mutters, looking over her shoulder as she rubs the girl’s back absently. “What would big brother say?”

She mouths ‘ _sorry_ ’ and ‘ _I’ll get them outta here_ ,’ to the bartenders and begins to shuffle forward awkwardly.

“Come on O. Time to get all little muscle-heads into bed,” she croons, grunting as the smaller girl clearly leans more heavily on her.

“Be nice to me. I paid the tab and already have an Uber coming.”

Raven looks over at Clarke, eyebrow raised.

Clarke blushes as she smiles, nodding a bit sheepishly.

Raven snorts.

“Don’t act like that’s for me. You just wanna get home so you can bone your girlfriend.”

“Sssshhh so what?” Octavia murmurs, eyes closed, trusting Raven to get her to the street safely.  “I’m paying your way too.”

“Clarke is paying, because you used her card to set up your Uber when yours was stolen,” Raven reminds, but mostly just to annoy her friend.

Anya and Lexa watch as Clarke eases the smaller girl back to herself with a quick tug. Octavia is compliant, burrowing her face in the blonde’s neck and laying a kiss there.

Raven looks at the two sober women and rolls her eyes in a ‘ _this is my life_ ’ gesture before waving and turning away.

“Later. Thanks again,” she calls over her shoulder.

“New friends?” Clarke asks as they disappear down the alley, her voice teasing, insinuating. “They seem _nice_.”

“Shut up Griffin,” Raven mutters, and then the three girls are gone.

Anya and Lexa stand in the alcove for a moment, the last of the adrenaline fading from their systems.

The ache in Anya knuckles turns to a dull throb, and she takes a deep breath.

“You need to ice that,” Lexa says, gently taking the injured appendage into her own hands.

Anya nods, distracted, but allows herself to be pulled into the back of the building.

“Who’s minding the bar?” she asks, only mildly curious - knowing things are handled. She trusts Lexa implicitly.

“Lincoln popped in to talk to Indra and I made him take over.”

Lexa leads her into the break room and sits her at the rickety table before turning to open the fridge.

“No ice, but a cold soda will do?” she says over her shoulder, managing to make it sound like a question and a statement at the same time.

Anya only nods.

She takes the can when Lexa offers and sets it on the table before reaching out and tugging her lover closer, so that the brunette stands between her open legs. She lays kisses on her stomach through her loose tank top, gnawing on the cloth a bit.

“No holes in this shirt,” Lexa commands mildly, running fingers through ash blonde hair. “Are you alright?”

Anya nods again, burying her nose in Lexa's shirt and breathing deep.

She’s a bit annoyed with herself. She has never been passive, but her instinctual move to seek out and protect Raven was out of character.

It doesn’t matter that they have built a rapport, and that Anya likes her more than most of her other regular customers, going into the alley is unlike her. She should have sent Gustus - would usually do so, because someone of his size usually resolved situations like these without the need for actual violence.

“Anya?” Lexa asks when Anya stays silent. “Whatever it is, you’re overthinking it.”

Anya only hums in response, reaching up to hold Lexa close for a moment before gently pushing her away.

“We should get back.”

“Lincoln can handle the bar for a few more minutes.”

Anya shakes her head, patting Lexa's thigh to let her know she’s okay.

“If you’re sure,” the standing woman murmurs, leaning down to drop a kiss on top of her lover’s head before moving away.

 

Raven doesn’t come back the next week, or the week after that, or the week after that.

Lexa notices Anya noticing the _lack_ _of_ Raven and can’t help but tease her.

Anya grumbles at her but can’t help cutting her eyes towards every tan-skinned brunette that walks through the door.

Lexa makes a game out of pointing them out for over two weeks, amused at her lover’s preoccupation.

On the fourth week, Raven shows up on the Wednesday, looking tired but cheerful. She orders a drink from Lincoln when Anya pretends to be preoccupied at the other end of the bar with a group of overly loud co-eds.

“You subtlety is inspirational,” Lexa teases, nodding her head towards Raven, who gives a little wave.

“Stop,” Anya warns, deadly serious.

She is most of the time, so Lexa pays it no mind.

“We both know what you want - why are you being so obstinate?”

Anya turns to her then, expression grim as Lexa's ever seen it.

“I want you.” There is no question or hesitation to the words, only truth.

Lexa sighs but is undeterred. “And you have me. But you want her also. We’ve talked about this, Anya. Nothing has changed since...”

Anya’s eyes go cold, distant.

“This is not the time or place for this discussion.”

Nodding, Lexa moves to the row of taps next to her lover.

“Then there will be no further discussion,” the brunette agrees, filling a glass with an amber Lager - something local that the University kids liked.

Without another word Lexa glides down the length of the bar and sets the beer down in front of Raven, smiling her most charming smile (the small one that _just_ curls her lips and crinkles the corners of her eyes - Anya's favorite smile).

Raven laughs at something Lexa says, and they both glance over at Anya, who does her best to have an indifferent expression.

The engineer salutes her with the beer then takes a sip, exchanging a few more words with Lexa before the bartender moves away, face too mild to be anything but smug.

“Lexa,” Anya whispers angrily under her breath, but Lexa moves on by, pretending not to hear.

Later when they are in bed, after a shift of Anya grumpily ignoring her lover and Lexa being entirely too pleased with herself, they come together in bed in a meeting of bodies that is as much battle as love making.

Lexa gives as good as she gets for the most part, but Anya is too annoyed to let it go, and the younger woman ends up on her stomach, begging at the end.

“Okay. Alright.” Lexa pants afterward, groaning at the ache of new bruises and fresh scratches. “I will stay out of it.”

“Thank you,” Anya says, gruff, but pulls her close and kisses her neck and shoulders softly, like an apology.

 

Raven makes it a point to come back on quiet nights - as quiet as it can be in a bar in a city near a large University - she knows Anya is working. She teaches on Tuesdays through Thursdays and has office hours on Friday, which means that Monday and Wednesday nights she wanders into the bar around 8pm and hangs around nursing a drink or two until 10.

Anya doesn’t always have time to talk for long periods of time, but she makes sure Raven is always kept in drink, and slowly, the bartender forgets that she is supposed to be ignoring the other woman.

By the end of the Spring semester, it isn’t a proper week if Raven hadn’t come by at least twice.

 

Raven comes back on to Friday Happy Hour the week of finals. She brings Octavia and Clarke again, and the three casually flirt their way around the room.

Octavia takes a particular interest in Lincoln, who happily flirts back despite being otherwise inclined.

The two get into what can only be described as a ‘flirt-off,’ which starts off innocently enough, with Lincoln’s charming Crest-commercial smile and Octavia batting her pretty green eyes, but eventually it will end with Lincoln shirtless and covered in whiskey and Octavia serving tequila body shots off of her belly to half the bar.

Lexa grins but says nothing, purposefully avoiding Anya's gaze. She flirts harmlessly with Raven and a little more aggressively with Clarke, who blushes but gives as good as she gets. There are sparks there, but Clarke is crazy for Octavia, regardless of the show they put on, and Lexa knows that not everyone has the understanding that she and Anya are supposed to have (and isn’t ready besides).

It is fun and mostly harmless, and Anya can tell that Lexa, who can command a room with a stare and a word but prefers quiet nights at home with their cat, has at made a new friend.

Watching Raven and her friends carry on, flirting and joking and happy, Anya is hit with a sudden wave of longing - a weird mix of fondness and nostalgia that makes no sense - and she has to stop what she is doing or risk dropping glass everywhere. There is a warmth in her chest when she looks at Raven that drops into her stomach and bursts into sparks there, igniting into desire (physical and something else, something deeper that scares her). She has to turn away for fear of being consumed.

This can’t be happening.

This isn’t happening.

She is panicking, breathing erratically. She moves away, desperate to get herself under control.

Raven watches the goings on with amusement, engaging enough that her friends don’t pay her much mind, but spending more time looking at Anya than anything else.

Anya pretends not to notice, taking care of everyone at the other end of the bar to get out of speaking to the girl.

Lincoln’s shift ends at 8pm but he just jumps over the bar and continues to encourage Octavia to wilder heights of debauchery.

After declining four drinks from four different men (not that Anya is counting), Raven moves away from her friends (Octavia is encouraging Clarke to lick the salt from her abs for another shot of tequila, and Lincoln has helpfully wedged a slice of lime in Octavia navel) and slides onto a stool near the taps.

“So,” the dark haired woman says in greeting, smiling.

“So,” Anya grunts back, wiping down the bar with a damp rag. She will not be cowed by this girl just because she finds her attractive.

“You’ve been doing a great job of avoiding me the last few hours.”

Anya raises an eyebrow and says nothing, but Raven isn’t fooled.

“Don’t give me that. Usually I can’t get rid of you to have a quiet drink, but now you can’t be bothered to say hi? How middle school is that?” Raven is scolding her, but her tone is a gentle tease and her smile is fond. “If I didn’t know your reputation as a stoic badass, I’d say someone just realized she has a crush.”

Anya stands up straight, glaring.

“I am a grown woman. I don’t get _crushes_.”

Raven laughs, delighted.

“You’re cute when you’re caught out, you know that?”

“You think highly of yourself.”

“Only because I know I’m awesome,” Raven replies easily.

Anya huffs and turns away, because she doesn’t know how to respond to that and doesn’t want to give ground.

“I’m just kidding around, Ahn, what’s up?”

“I prefer Anya.”

Anya can imagine the look on Raven’s face, confusion and a little hurt.

They have become close, and while Anya is often curt and brusque, she has never been cruel or cold before.

“Hey… are… did I do something wrong?”

Anya winces but doesn’t turn around. She knows she is being unfair, but the panic in her is rising, choking her, threatening to overcome her senses. She is a little afraid she might be having a heart attack, and more afraid she is having a panic attack.

“Maybe you shouldn’t make assumptions about things you know nothing about.”

They are silent for long moments, before Anya hears the stool scrape but a bit as Raven moves it and hops off.

“Listen, I thought maybe there something going on here with us, but clearly I read this wrong. Sorry. Won’t bother you again.”

“I already have a lover.”

She hears Raven snort, annoyed.

“You think I don’t know that? I’m not blind, you and Lexa are are crazy about each other.”

Anya frowns and turns around. “Then _what_ , exactly, are you doing?”

Raven squares her jaw, arms crossed over her chest, both eyebrows raised in challenge.

“What I thought _you_ were doing. Do you honestly think I would flirt with you so blatantly if I hadn’t already talked to Lexa?”

Anya doesn’t respond, not really sure how, and Raven snorts again, going for annoyed but obviously a little hurt.

“Wow. Okay. Yeah, I’m gonna split. Sorry for bothering you.”

Anya wants nothing more than to reach out and stop Raven, and it is the intensity of that desire that keeps her from doing so.

Raven makes her way back to her friends, who are surrounded by all the hooting frat boys and shrieking co-eds Friday night has to offer.

“I’m gonna jet,” she half shouts at Clarke, who turns from watching Octavia pour a shot of Maker’s Mark down Lincoln’s chest to splash into a waiting girl’s mouth.

“You okay?” the blonde asks, frowning in concern.

Raven smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Yeah. Headache.”

“Want me to come?” Clarke asks, but she is already looking back over at Octavia, who is showing off her physical prowess by arm wrestling a frat boy. (The kid stands no chance - Octavia looks small and young, but she was a personal trainer by day, missing out at getting into the Olympics for power lifting by one person.)

“Nah, it’s cool. Make sure Mighty Mouse doesn’t break that guy’s arm, yeah?”

Clarke looks at Raven with narrowed eyes, but the mechanical engineer shrugs and waves back in the direction of the bacchanalia.

“Go enjoy a Friday night with your girlfriend, Griffin. I’m gonna go take advantage of a blissfully empty apartment.”

Sighing, Clarke reaches out and squeezes Raven hand.

“Strike out?”

Despite herself, Raven chuckles. “Fuck you.”

The blonde grins, sticking out the tip of her tongue. “I’ll be sure to bring home chocolate ice cream and Reese's Pieces.”

Giving Clarke a quick hug, Raven turns and leaves, making a concerted effort to ignore the bar and the woman behind it.

When she is gone, Clarke glares over at Anya, before turning and wandering back to her girlfriend.

 

_tbc..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At first Anya is glad. She is embarrassed and sorry about what happened and needs the space to properly figure out how to be able to interact with the girl again. But after a month of nothing, when Raven would stop in a few times a week (sometimes even just to chat and pretend to enjoy the bar food), it begins to grate on her, like a bruise that is small but deep, aching at the slightest touch.
> 
> Lexa doesn't bring it up, but she knows.
> 
> She knows Anya is upset that she and Raven had spoken about their arrangement, about the possibilities it presented, but she is not sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN 1: Okay, so I lied. There will be three parts. And the sex is in the last part... (Sorry?)
> 
> AN 2: These characters have lodged themselves in my brain. They are begging for a longer story that I can't give them right now. Just know, there is a lot that is being left out. Maybe I will write a novel.
> 
> AN 3: Unedited. I will clean it up when I post the final bit. Thanks for your patience on that.

Raven doesn’t come back.

At first Anya is glad. She is embarrassed and sorry about what happened and needs the space to properly figure out how to be able to interact with the girl again. But after a month of nothing, when Raven would stop in a few times a week (sometimes even just to chat and pretend to enjoy the bar food), it begins to grate on her, like a bruise that is small but deep, aching at the slightest touch.

Lexa doesn't bring it up, but she knows. She makes sure to give Anya space, but also makes sure to show that she loves her and is there (massaging her hands when they cramp up after long nights on shift and long mornings working with her tools, buying her favorite fruits and preparing her lunch, replacing the contents of the small vase of flowers that sits on the kitchen table).

She knows Anya is upset that she and Raven had spoken about their arrangement, about the possibilities it presented, but she is not sorry.

“Why?” Anya asks one day, when Lexa is in the middle of soldering delicate pieces of metal into filigree vines to inset in a jewelry box Anya had made.

“Because if you are going to date her, I want to know her,” Lexa replies, not looking up from her work. “And because she came to me, feeling guilty because she knew we were together. She wanted me to know that she wasn’t trying to disrespect me.”

“Oh?” Anya asks, though she means ‘ _isn’t that admirable_?’

“She assured me that she would never do that - that she knew what it felt like.” Now Lexa looks up, her expression solemn. “She deserved to know that she wasn’t misreading signals. That you were interested, and that it was okay.”

“I never said I was,” Anya insists, glaring.

Lexa glares right back, and her voice is like ice.“Do not insult my intelligence, or my love for you.”

Anya is immediately contrite, though she refuses to back down.

“I don’t need anyone else. I love you.”

Now Lexa puts down her tools, making sure the soldering iron is off and the metal upright.

“How long have you loved me?” she asks, expression deceptively bland.

Anya frowns. “What?”

“You heard the question. Answer it.”

Anya hesitates, knowing this this is an verbal trap of some sort, but unsure as to how to avoid being snared.

Lexa cocks her head to the side, blinking a few times to indicate she is waiting. When no answer is forthcoming, she steps close to her lover, not touching her yet.

“Did you not love me when you took Gustus to your bed? Or Luna?”

“I did. You know that.”

“Yes. I do.”

“I have loved you since we were children. Since I can remember.”

“I know.”

“Why ask me that, then?”

Lexa reaches out, sliding her arms around Anya’s waist and holding her firmly.

“Why was it different?” she asks, instead of answering.

“I didn’t love _them_ ,” Anya insists, moving forward and kissing the other woman.

Lexa allows it for a few moments, enjoying the feel of Anya against her. Before she loses herself though, she pulls away.

“Do you love that girl?” she asks, deadly serious. She will not stand for lies now, or even half truths.

“No…” Anya hesitates, swallowing hard and clenching her jaw before forcing herself to go in. “But I think I could.”

Lexa smiles, to show she is grateful for the honesty.

“And this scares you.” Anya looks down, but Lexa tips her chin up with one crooked finger. “Anya… do you think that if you love this girl, you will not love me anymore?”

Anya lets out a shuddering breath, ashamed.

Lexa kisses her softly, pulling back after a moment only far enough that they can look into each other’s eyes.

“Do you think that when Costia was with us, I no longer loved you?”

“No. Of course not,” Anya whispers harshly, without hesitation, appalled at the suggestion.

“Why should Raven be any different?”

“Because,” Anya says, trying to pull away. Lexa won’t let her. “Because I have never felt this way about anyone else.”

Lexa nods, knowing this is hard. She doesn't want to push, but she wants Anya to understand.

“I love you, Anya. I have since I first saw you. We have survived unspeakable things together, and we have made a home. We opened that home to someone once, together, and we were happy. When she…” Lexa has to pause, breathing a uneven as she fights getting sucked back into the memories. “When Costia died, it was unbearable. You were so strong for me, and I never knew what that cost you.”

“Lexa…” Anya starts, but Lexa shakes her head. “I loved Costia, Lexa, and her death was devastating, but… she was yours.”

Anya doesn’t know how to explain it. She loved Costia deeply, of course she did, and when the other woman died (there was nothing they could do, she was fine and then she was sick then she was gone, wasting away in a matter of months; they barely had time to say goodbye) she had been wrecked. She couldn’t sleep for weeks, only ate so she had the strength to take care of Lexa, who was almost catatonic.

She’d had to quit her job at the time as a well paid set designer for a major theater company, because the hours were too long and she was afraid Lexa would… be gone when she came home one night. When Indra had offered, she had taken the job at the bar because it was close to home and because it was easy and tips were good enough to get by.

When Lexa had begun to come back around to the land of the living, Anya's old job was gone, but it was okay because she had Lexa again, who began to take shifts at the bar too.

She had hurt - still hurt terribly - when she thought of Costia. But it had been Lexa who had fallen for the woman first. Lexa who brought her into their home.

Losing Costia had been brutal, but almost losing Lexa was like almost losing herself. She would rather die than ever risk it.

It doesn’t matter that Raven makes her heart beat quicker, or her stomach feel odd, like the moment on a roller coaster right before the cars plunge over the drop. Lexa is everything to her, now more than ever.

“Come back,” Lexa commands gently, touching the sides of her face.

Anya flinches and blinks, coming back to the present.

“It’s different,” Anya asserts.

“It is,” Lexa agrees. “Because it is you. Anya, who is always in control, Anya who takes care of everyone else but refuses to be vulnerable. Love is frightening. It makes us feel small.”

“Loving you doesn’t make me feel scared, or small, or out of control,” Anya insists.

“Only because you know I love you back.”

Anya has no response to that, so Lexa continues.

“If you feel this strongly about this girl - about Raven - don’t fight it. I know my place, and it’s with you. She does not threaten that.”

Anya closes her eyes, because her vision has blurred and she can’t stand to look at Lexa when she replies.

“I can’t go through that again,” she admits, voice surprisingly steady - even, almost detached. “I can’t put you through that again.”

Lexa takes a deep breath.

“What did I say on the night of the funeral?”

Anya pauses, thinks back for a moment. “Love is weakness.”

“And what did you say to me?”

“That if that is the case, then loving makes us brave.”

“You have your share of flaws, Anya, but being a coward is not one of them.” Anya looks like she might say something rude, so Lexa rests her fingertips on the other woman’s lips. “You taught me what it means to be strong, and brave. To give of yourself because of love. What happened to Costia will not happen to Raven.”

“I know that.”

“But you do not believe it.” Anya shrugs, at the end of what her emotions can take, and Lexa nods once. “If something would happen, let it. If you feel that way again, don’t force it away.”

“You are more than enough.”

“What did you tell me when I came to you with my guilt and my feelings towards Costia?”

“That my place in your heart could not be taken by anyone else.”

“Yes. And that it just meant that I had so much love in me that I had grown another. Would you at least do me the courtesy to treat yourself with the same consideration and kindness that you treat me?”

Anya says nothing.

Lexa smiles wanly, raw from dredging up painful memories.

“If you can’t be kind to yourself, then at least be kind to _her_. Explain to her why you are pushing her away.”

“How? She hasn’t come back.”

“Go to her.”

“I don’t know how.”

“Perhaps start at her uncle’s bar?”

Anya glares again. “I don't know _how_.”

Lexa smiles, cupping Anya's cheek for a moment before pulling away and moving back to her work. “You will.”

 

Anya steps through the tinted doors of the pool hall, already worked up into a cranky fret.

She has no idea how she is going to explain herself to Raven - how she can apologize but let her down at the same time, how to admit that the idea of letting anyone into her heart besides Lexa is so terrifying she would rather not try than risk it.

Surveying the dim room (the lamps that hang above each table illuminate their surfaces efficiently, the rest of the room lit by soft bulbs in sconces along the walls) she sees that Raven is not there.

“Are you serious?” a gruff voice asks from behind her, but Anya does not turn around.

“Can I help you?” she asks, pretending to continue to look around. Really she is taking stock of Murphy’s position behind her as best she can through sound, in case he wants to continue what they started weeks ago.

“You got a lot of balls showing up here, after what you said to her,” he says, and she feels him come close.

“Murphy,” another voice - Raven's voice - says, the command clear. Murphy doesn’t move, and Raven turns sharp. “Fuck off. Now.”

“This is bullshit,” he mutters darkly, footsteps and voice fading as he moves away. “I don’t know why I even fucking try, I swear to God.”

Anya can feel Raven staring at her, waiting, and she takes a moment to fortify herself.

When she is ready, she turns, eyes taking in the other woman for the first time in almost a month.

“Raven,” Anya says, nodding once. “Can I speak with you?”

Raven crosses her arms over her chest. “I don’t know, can you?”

Anya sighs, annoyed, because while Raven is right to be short with her, she doesn’t have the time to deal with bringing them back to an amenable state of existence before this conversation.

“I came here to explain, but I won’t force myself on you. If you don’t want to hear what I have to say, that is your choice.”

It isn’t really fair to put it on Raven, but Anya has no other choice. She promised Lexa she would try.

Raven glares at her for long moments before rolling her eyes grunting out a ‘fine.’ She turns without a word and heads towards the back of the room, towards a door marked Employees Only.

Anya follows the other woman through three dim hallways, frowning at her back the whole way. Raven’s limp is more pronounced than Anya has ever seen it, her steps loud and uneven on the old wood floors.

“Are you in pain?” Anya asks, unable to stop herself.

Raven pauses briefly, looking over her shoulder. Anya can tell she wants to be flippant - she has seen Raven deal with people who piss her off before - but she visibly restrains herself.

“Only a bit more than usual,” she allows.

Anya knows, after a late night conversation that started light but ended with Raven helping her close up the bar, that Raven had been on her way to being an astronaut when an accident during training (no one’s fault, which made it all the worse) had broken her back and resulted permanent nerve damage, which made the lower half of her leg numb and the major nerve randomly misfire, causing intense pain and muscle spasms down the leg. (For weeks after she found out, Anya would glare at patrons who dared take Raven’s favorite stool or crowd too close so that they knocked into her leg, until laughing, Raven had told her that as cute as her guard dog mode was, she could relax.)

“I’m sorry,” Anya says honestly, and the part of her she has been trying to suppress - stuff in a box until it suffocated or disappeared - makes it almost unbearably hard not to reach out and touch Raven in comfort.

For a while there after Anya punched Murphy in that alley, casual touching had been fine, and Raven was very physically expressive. Nearing their disagreement, though, it became too much for the bartender, who started shying away (not blatantly of course, just making it harder for Raven to make contact). She’s sure Raven noticed, but the other woman hadn’t said anything, had respected her space.

Raven leads her to a small office with an old but sturdy polished wood desk and matching chair, and a beat up couch along the wall. There is a fancy desktop computer on the surface of desk, at odds with the general shabbiness of the room.

Raven moves to sit on the edge of the desk but doesn’t offer Anya a seat.

“How did you find me?” she asks instead. Anaya raises an eyebrow. Raven raises one right back and rolls her eyes too. “Lincoln.”

“Lincoln.” Anya confirms.

The man had become good friends with Octavia. Both gym rats, both competitors (though Lincoln was a bodybuilder, not a powerlifter). They had bonded, spent a lot of free time together. When Anya had been ready to seek Raven out, it had been easy to convince him to help. (He had always been a do-gooder, and Anya had no trouble using that to her advantage.)

“You wanted to talk?” Raven asks after a few moments of awkward silence, gesturing impatiently. She doesn’t add a time limit, but Anya can feel the clock ticking.

If it were Anya in Raven’s place she would not have bothered to give the time of day, so she has no right to complain about the other woman’s briskness. Still, it chafes her a bit, though she does her best to continue unimpeded.

“I’m sorry for what happened,” she begins, because it is true and also a direct and simple way to begin.

Raven is not helping her at all, crossing her hands over her chest and drumming her fingers against her biceps impatiently.

“Which was…?”

Anya hesitates a moment, before forcing herself to speak.

“Letting things get so far. Leading you on. Treating you as if I was going to pursue a relationship with you.”

“Why did you?” Raven asks, voice quiet, eyes hurt but also still open to what Anya has to say.

Taking a deep breath, Anya decides that she has to be brave.

“Because I wanted you. Because if things were different, I would have. Pursued you, I mean.” Anya pauses, fighting the urge to reach out and take the other woman’s hand. “You’re intelligent, beautiful, funny, and can hold a conversation and your drink better than almost anyone I have ever known.”

Raven looks down at the ground between them, jaw clenching and unclenching a few times.

“Hearing the person who led you on compliment you doesn’t change the fact that they played you.”

Anya smiles ruefully, unable to argue.

“Anyone with a brain and a pulse would want you, Raven. I am not denying that I do. I just… can’t. I am sorry.”

Raven curls into herself, clearly hurt and confused. It makes something inside Anya ache, not being able to comfort the dark haired woman, but she knows she doesn’t have the right. Instead she waits as patiently as she can, giving Raven the room to formulate a response.

When nothing is said for over ten minutes, the silence stretching roughly over both their skin, Anya nods once and turns to go.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, because she is.

She is halfway out the door when she hears Raven’s voice.

“Why?”

Anya stops cold, strong enough to do that but not strong enough to turn back. She closes her eyes and leans her head against the door jam.

“Because I shouldn’t have let you think that I could be yours.”

“Why let me think that? Why flirt with me and ask me about myself - why pretend you cared? That’s a pretty long con, considering you were too chickenshit to close the deal and fuck me.” Raven voice is steady and cold and a little cruel.

Anya turns, angry (more at herself, but a little at Raven).

“Bold talk for a woman who had no problem trying to bed someone else’s girlfriend.”

Raven glares.

“As soon as I realized, _I_ talked to Lexa. Apologized. _She_ said it wasn’t a problem. That the two of you have an open relationship or some shit.”

“No.” Anya’s voice is harsh and scorching hot with anger. “We do not have an ‘open relationship or some shit.’ That isn’t it _at all_.”

“Then what? What exactly do the two of you have? Because she’s been encouraging me to flirt with you for months now! So unless you are dating a pathological liar, or a complete sadistic bitch, there is something going that you aren’t telling me!”

All at once, the fight goes out of Anya, like a candle being snuffed out. Her shoulders curl in, like she is trying to protect herself, her body sagging a bit.

“I… I can’t.” Anya whispers, voice low and a little broken. “There is something about you that makes me feel soft inside, like I can trust you…”

“Of course you can trust me - God, how do you not know that by now? After what I’ve told you. _Shared_ with you.” Raven is panting a little, more confused than ever. “Do you think I just go around telling people about what happened to me?”

“You don’t understand.” Anya manages to get out, distantly impressed that her voice is at least steady, though not very strong.

“Then _make_ me understand.”

Anya opens her mouth, to say that she can’t, that it isn’t her story to tell, but her mind is flooded with memories - _IV drips and cannula tubes and catheters and normally curly hair turned lank and tan skin turned waxy and pale and bruises that just wouldn’t go away and the sharp smell of antiseptic chasing after the acrid smell of vomit and_ \- a sob comes out instead. It’s too much.

“Whoa, hey,” Raven says, startled, but Anya can’t respond, for fear of actually crying.

As it is she is mortified - she is better than this, stronger than this - and just wants to make an escape with what is left of her dignity.

“Hey. It’s okay.”

“No,” Anya assures, taking a shaky breath. “It is not okay.”

She feels arms wrap around her, drawing her into a warm, strong body, and while she manages to keep from breaking down completely, she can’t help but lean into the embrace.

They stay like that for a while, Anya struggling to pull herself together in Raven’s arms, Raven keeping guard while the other woman gathers the scattered pieces of herself. It’s the first time they have done something like this - Raven comforting, Anya accepting comfort - but it feels familiar and warm and good. It feels right in a way that Anya doesn’t feel with nearly anyone, and she doesn’t have the energy to fight it.

“She told me,” Raven says eventually.

“About Costia?” Anya asks, because she is tired and emotionally wrung out and has no time or love for games.

“Yeah. A couple of months ago. After you rearranged Murphy’s face.” Raven chuckles, but the sound is devoid of humor. “She asked me to dinner, wanted to talk because ‘things were serious’ or whatever.”

Anya doesn’t dispute it - she didn’t make a habit of insinuating herself into other people’s conflicts out of the blue.

She goes to pull away, but Raven doesn’t let her, only allows her to move into a more comfortable - reciprocal - position.

“What-what did she tell you?”

“She didn’t go into crazy detail, okay? She just,” Raven pauses, moving back so she can look Anya in the face. “She told me that you guys are together but not exclusive. That you had another partner who, uh, _passed_ a few years ago and that this is the first time since then that you’ve shown interest in anybody else. That if I was interested in you, I should know that you weren’t the type to be casual. Not gonna lie, she was a little… heavy.”

“She shouldn’t have said anything,” Anya says, almost an apology but not quite.

Raven shrugs, nodding. “Probably not. But it’s not like you were going to tell me the score.”

She still hasn’t let go, hands loosely clasped at Anya’s waist, present but not confining.

Anya inclines her head, agreeing.

“Yeah, that’s what she figured too.”

“Raven… you deserve better than being involved with someone so… damaged.”

Raven rolls her eyes.

“Oh please. You don’t have the monopoly on emotional baggage.”

“It’s, it’s more than just ‘emotional baggage’ Raven.” Anya tried again, succeeding in pulling away and turning around.

“Oh my god, you are such a drama queen.”

Anya whips around, angry now, all at Raven.

“You think my reaction to the death of my partner of three years is overly dramatic? That I should just snap my fingers and be over it?”

“I think using the fact that you are hurting as a way of closing yourself off to the world is not dealing.” Raven fires back, prodding Anya in the chest once for emphasis before pulling back. “I think that you don’t get to fuck with someone else's emotions then decide when it could be something that you are ‘too damaged’ and pull away!”

“You didn't have to watch her die. You don’t know what it’s like watching someone you care about wither away, and the woman you love wither along with her. Can you imagine what it’s like having to literally spoonfeed a grown woman because she has lost the will to live?”

“No,” Raven admits, face pinching in sympathy. She doesn’t reach out though, for which Anya is grateful. “I do know what it’s like to shut yourself off from the world when something terrible happens, though. To lose hope and parts of yourself to grief and fear.”

Anya’s eyes flicker down to Raven’s leg briefly, but don’t linger there.

“Raven…”

“Anya.”

Anya takes a shuddering breath and runs a shaky hand through her hair.

“I can’t go through that again.” The bartender states, but it sounds like she is begging.

Raven lets out a sigh, partially because her heart aches for the woman in front of her, but also because she can’t decide whether to kiss her or shake her.

When Anya had strolled into the pool hall, Raven had wanted to lay into her so badly, to make her hurt for letting Raven open up to her, make herself vulnerable, before callously pushing her away. Even then she knew she wasn’t being really fair to Anya, but she didn’t really care. Anya was the one who was the asshole here, not her.

Except, hearing the woman talk about her pain, seeing her like this - raw and lost and still very much shattered - did things to Raven. Reminded her that this was the same woman who listened to her open up about her accident and didn’t say she was sorry, only took Raven’s hand and said that she was glad Raven was here. This was the same woman who sat while Raven ranted about being passed over for tenure because of her “lack of practical experience” for a man who couldn't even pronounce the name of the experimental physics theory Raven was using to revolutionize how space shuttles would break orbit within the next decade, who sat and listened and then took her without a word to the batting cages at the pier so she could demolish baseballs until she felt better. (Lexa had been there that day and it was the most fun Raven can remember having in years, easily since the accident, because she forgot for an hour that she was anything but whole and cared for and was allowed to have a bad day.)

Looking at Anya now, she can’t help but soften.

Raven moves closer again, reaching out for Anya’s hand. The bartender flinches but doesn’t pull away, allows Raven to intertwine their fingers.

“I can’t do it, I can’t go through that again,” she repeats.

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know that,” Anya whispers harshly, eyes showing a little too much white.

“You’re right, I don't. But neither do you.” She takes a chance and cups Anya’s cheek with her free hand. “Look, I’m not asking to marry you Anya. Just, to see where this could go.”

“Raven, I-”

“Tell me I am wrong, okay? Tell me that I imagined that it was more than casual flirting and that you don’t care.”

Anya looks at Raven helplessly.

“You know I can’t. But, this… can’t start. It isn’t fair to you.”

“It’d already started, and you know that. What isn’t _fair_ to _me_ is that we were basically already dating and then you dumped me without even having the courtesy of taking me out on a proper date.” Raven smiles to try to soften the words, but there is still a sting to them and she isn’t entirely sorry about it because they are true.

Anya is silent.

“Look, I am done chasing you, okay? I respect the no. So, say no. Not, ‘oh it can't be’ or ‘I can’t go through that again,’ but straight up, ‘Raven I don’t want to date you,’ and we can go back to our lives.”

Again nothing, the bartender is completely still.

“You can’t, can you? Okay, try this one. ‘Raven, I came here to try and blow you off because I’m afraid that if I take you out on an official date I might actually like it.’”

That gets a smile out of Anya, a small curl upwards of the corners of her mouth, but Raven takes that as a good sign.

“Still too hard? Okay, one more. How about, ‘Raven, loveliest of geniuses, your dopeness eclipses the sun and I-”

“Raven,” Anya interrupts, and immediately Raven is silent. “You are right. I came here to speak with you about why we couldn’t work, because I treated you unfairly and you deserved better.”

“This is true,” the mechanical engineer agrees, but she is cowed by Anya’s glare. “My bad, go on.”

“You’re right.”

“Often,” Raven agrees, unable to help herself, then makes a motion of zipping her lips.

Anya soldiers on. “I am afraid. Not just about the bad things that might happen, but also the good things. I feel selfish for wanting more than what I have.”

Raven lifts a finger - her crooked right index finger - and waits for Anya to nod.

“You had, err, _more_ once. Why so much resistance now?” The question is genuine, full of equal part curiosity and concern.

“I know it is completely irrational, but sometimes I feel like she was taken away from us because we had too much.”

“Too much?”

“Too much happiness and peace of mind, just,  too much.”

“Oh Anya…”

“I said I knew it was irrational, alright?”

Raven looks at her for a long moment, then sighs, tired.

“If you can tell me that this isn’t worth it to you to take a chance on, I get it, okay?”

Anya stares for long moments, blinking, clearly on the edge of speaking.

“Okay,” Raven said, nodding to herself, looking away. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say it.” She scrubs her rough palm over her face, trying to rub away her disappointment.

Trembling fingers lift her chin, urge her to look back at her companion.

“I came here to tell you I can’t do this, but… I find that I am more afraid of _not_ taking a chance. Of letting you go, especially after how we have been, and never knowing.”

They stare at each other, two sets of shining-wet eyes.

“So?” Raven asks, voice thick, because now she _needs_ to hear it.

“So, I’m sorry for how I treated you. Please give me another chance.”

Raven smiles then, a few tears slipping down her cheeks to dampen Anya’s fingers where they still rest on her chin, because it isn’t even a question.

“Jesus, Anya, you don’t have to be so dramatic. It’s just dinner.”

Anya laughs then, ignoring her own tears and leaning forward to rest her forehead against Raven’s.

“You are infuriating sometimes.”

“Hmm, infuriating. Is that spelled A-M-A-Z-I-N-G?”

“A-S-S-H-O-L-E.”

Raven cackles in delight, and pulls Anya forward into her arms.

They end up Raven leaning against the desk, Anya against her. There is nothing sexual in the way they are wrapped around each other, but potential simmers there under the surface. For now though, they draw comfort from the contact with each other.

“So,” Raven says, breaking the silence after long moments.

“So.” Anya repeats.

“Where are you taking me next weekend?”

Anya looks at her, chuckling. Both their smiles are tentative but hopeful, and growing bigger by the second.

“I know a place.”

Raven narrows her eyes, mock glaring.

“If you take me to a bar, I’m going to lose my shit.”

Anya laughs and closes her eyes, giddy relief flooding through her. There is still fear - so much fear - but she knows she made the right choice.

“Not exactly what I had in mind,” she says, then moves forward the rest of the way to capture the other woman’s lips with her own.

 

What Anya has in mind is technically not a bar, although there is plenty of alcohol to be had.

“Holy crap…” Raven breathes as they enter the Planetarium, eyes wide as saucers. She spins slowly, taking in the space. “How did I not know about this.”

Grinning, Anya waits until her date has made a full rotation before answering, taking her hand and tugging gently to get her moving towards the table of drinks.

“Unless you are in the ‘Over 250k A Year’ club, you would not have gotten an invite. They like to keep the plebeians away.”

Raven stops short, narrowing her eyes.

“Unless you had an eccentric millionaire recently leave you a wad of cash, you aren’t a member of the elite either.”

Anya shrugs, pleased to be both mysterious and to irritate the other woman a little. It’s rare when she can annoy Raven, and she takes pleasure in it.

“Riiight. Who did you murder to get us in?” Anya chuckles and Raven huffs in disgust. “Okay fine, be that way. I’ll get it out of you…”

The truth was that Anya had worked this event a few times, and had gotten to know the president of Museum that ran the Planetarium. He had given her a standing invitation should she ever want to attend with a guest.

Keeping Raven in the dark about it furthered her plan of seeming mysterious and also driving the mechanical engineer crazy.

“The show will start in 10 minutes,” an even voice calls over the PA system. “Last call for cocktails and wine until after the show.”

“Cocktails,” Raven mocks, making a face and waving a hand around. “La dee da, how fancy.”

Despite her mocking though, Raven is dressed to impress in what she calls her ‘nutty professor best;’ dark tweed pants, a pale blue button down with small white polka dots, a maroon and navy sweater vest, and a maroon bow-tie. Anya had told her to dress as if she were going to be teaching one of her classes - mostly to see what she would wear - and is not at all disappointed.

Anya herself has opted to wear what she might if she were working the event - black skinny jeans, and an oversized navy blouse (the one with the little pink anchors on it that Lexa bought her on a whim). She doesn’t particularly care what these people think of her, but she knows Raven likes her in dark colors. (The younger woman has never said so, but Anya notices the way her eyes darken and her breathing gets a little shallow when the bartender decides on navy blues or hunter greens or burgundy reds and royal purples.)

“Wine or liquor?” Anya asks as she nudges Raven towards the large makeshift bar along the wall.

“Surprise me,” the other woman says, distracted by the displays.

Chuckling, Anya lets her go to get their drinks, pleased.

When they make their way into the Planetarium itself and take their seats, Raven is practically buzzing with excitement.

Anya hands her a drink to keep her tethered to her chair.

“This is seriously awesome,” the dark haired woman stage whispers, taking a sip of her cocktail. “Oh. Wow. Okay. And _this_ is delicious.”

“They had themed drinks,” Anya replies, lip curling a little at that. She hates that sort of kitschy nonsense but it is part of the experience. “It’s called a Stardust.

“Amazing!” Raven coos, taking another sip before looking into the large martini glass. “Is that… glitter?” The liquid in it is pale amber with dark droplets that are slowly diffusing into it, and it shimmers gold. “Lemon and whiskey and… Ginger?”

Before Anya can answer, the lights dim.

Raven holds her hand the entire presentation, squeezing in excitement every once and awhile.

Periodically Anya hears Raven sigh, sometimes wistful sometimes happy, and she knows she did good.

When the date is over, Anya walks Raven home and lingers in the doorway when she is offered a drink. She isn’t ready for what the drink leads to next, and says so.

Raven nods, understanding, molding herself to Anya’s body and kissing her hard, until they are both panting.

“Night,” she says, smirking at Anya’s dazed look.

Anya just nods, turning away to go.

Raven closes her door - Anya can hear her laughing through it - and the bartender leans back against it for a minute, trying to get herself under control.

“Goodnight.”

 

Raven asks Lexa if she’d like to join them on their next date. She’s uncertain - a bit shy even - but she doesn’t fidget or look away while she waits for an answer.

Lexa declines, but she is smiling and allows that perhaps if Raven asks again she may take her up in the invitation.

 

She takes Anya to a small renaissance faire, wheedling her until she agrees to wear a rented costume.

Anya rolls her eyes and calls her a huge nerd, but can’t quite keep her eyes to herself when Raven emerges from the tent dressed as a barmaid. (Raven winks at her and pulls the loose arm of the blouse down to show off her shoulder and collarbone, because she knows Anya likes it when she teases her.)

Refusing a dress herself, Anya allows Raven to outfit her as a blacksmith (she likes the leather and the sleeveless vest, even if it is a bit chilly, though she will never say so) and together they wander the fairgrounds.

Raven buys her a giant turkey leg and a huge tankard of beer and prods her in one direction or another all day.

Around noon there is a sword and whip show that Anya secretly enjoys, but she refuses to say so, only rolling her eyes when Raven grins in her direction. She’s playing the put upon lover today, even though she is having a good time and they haven’t done much more than hold hands and exchange kisses, because she knows the other woman finds it charming when she pretends to be grumpy.

Around 2, they watch a jousting tournament, Raven giving a token to the winning Knight, who comes and bows to her and kisses the back of her hand.

Anya is about ready to call it a day after that, a bit jealous and mildly drunk from beer and the sun, when Raven tugs her over to another area and kisses her until she feels better.

When they come up for air and look around, Anya notices that they are near the artisans marketplace. Stand upon stand of hand crafted, lovingly made goods - ceramics and metal ware and wood work.

She feels a pang in her chest, a simple sort of awe, and wanders over - never letting go of Raven’s hand.

They silently peruse the stalls for another hour, until Anya notices Raven dragging a bit, tripping more often and generally favoring her braced leg.

“I’m sorry,” she says, but Raven smiles and kisses her.

“Worth it,” she assures, but winces when she shifts from foot to foot and Anya makes the call to end the day.

She takes the card of a few of the craftsmen and then leads them back to the costume tent.

Raven conks out on the bus home, and Anya lets her sleep all the way back, alternating between watching the world blur by and watching the other woman breathe.

It was a very good day. They had flirted and laughed and Anya had felt lighter than she has in a while. Raven had insisted on helping her pick out a gift for Lexa. (Anya had assured her that as long as Raven was respectful of her partner, she wasn’t required to make romantic gestures, but Raven had only smiled and shrugged and made her look around until they found a wrought iron hanging candle holder that Anya knew the other woman would love.)

Again she walks Raven to her door, and again she hesitates in the doorway. She doesn’t want the day to end, and Lexa is out of town visiting friends so no one but their cat is waiting for her at home, but she still isn’t there yet.

Instead of suggesting Anya come in this time, Raven reaches out and hooks a pinky through the bartender’s belt loop and pulls her closer, so they’re touching.

“Semester starts this week,” she murmurs, blinking slowly. She smiles at Anya, eyes half closed with sleep, still groggy even after having to navigate the public transit.

Anya isn’t sure what is being implied, and says so.

“I was thinking of throwing an ‘I’m still only a lowly adjunct but at least I got my friends’ party. It would be cool if you came.”

Anya hesitates, an uneasy feeling beginning to curl in her stomach.

“No pressure, clearly. I already asked Lexa. She said she might stop over for a bit.”

Something about this hits Anya wrong. She narrows her eyes and pulls away some, backing up a step.

“You spoke to Lexa about this? When?”

“Yeah… Last week, when she was covering Lincoln’s mid-shift. She was cool with it. She and Clarke and O have hit it off pretty well, so I figured she’d be down.”

“I would prefer if you didn’t make decisions with my partner behind my back,” Anya says, voice flat.

Raven blinks, looking more awake, and holds up a hand.

“Whoa there. We just… what?”

Anya crosses her arms over her chest. She is tired and a little cranky from the sun and dehydration, and suddenly uncomfortable with how well their date went.

“You should have come to me first.”

“O… kay?”

“If you had, I would have told you it is too soon to be introduced to your friends. We aren’t there yet, and it’s rude and presumptuous of you to try and use _my_ _partner_ coerce me.”

Raven’s eyebrows shoot up her head, all traces of sleepiness gone.

“Okay, first of all, I asked Lexa because we were talking and the party came up. Did you _not_ want me talking to her at all? Is there some sort of weird poly rule you have about keeping your girlfriends separated by a moat or something?”

Anya opens her mouth to respond but the word ‘girlfriends’ hits her and she freezes.

Raven continues, too annoyed to notice what she’s said.

“Second, you already know a buncha my friends. We literally hold up ya bar at least once a week,” the mechanical engineer says, gearing up now, a bit of the wrong-side-of-the-tracks coming out in her accent now that she is upset. “And third, dude, it’s justa house party to cap off what’s gonna be a rough first week back for me. I thought it would be nice to have you there, but seeing as you’d rather be an asshole about it, nevermind.”

Anya is sorry immediately, but too proud to say so yet.

“You still should have asked me first.”

Now Raven crosses her own arms over her chest, glaring full on. She is perfectly capable of being cranky back, especially after a full day on her leg.

“Lexa and I are getting to be friends. _Sorry_ if that makes you uncomfortable.”

Anya glares.

“I didn’t say that it did.”

“You’re acting like a douche over me asking you to a party. Maybe you should figure out if you _actually_ want to try this, or if you only want me on the side, where you can pretend I am not part of your everyday.”

That stops Anya cold. It isn’t what she meant at all.

She opens her mouth to say something, but Raven holds up a finger, shaking her head.

“You are striking out right now, and I am suddenly not in the mood to be understanding. Hit me up when you can figure out how to not take out your fear on me.”

Again Anya opens her mouth, and again Raven shakes her head.

“We need to cool off before we say something we can’t say sorry for.” She backs up. “Text me when you get home so I know you made it safe.”

And with that, she closes the door.

Anya does text, wanting to apologize but unable to bring herself to write anything but, _Here. Safe_.

Raven texts back, _Good. Night_., and that is that.

  
Raven doesn’t text first the next day (she always texts first, because she has to be up by 8am and likes to live text her stream of consciousness as she gets ready for school, while Anya and Lexa wake up after noon), and Anya is too proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly I love dreamsheartstory because this is already a fifth of a novel, and I am actually forcing myself to write a sex scene.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You have to know that I want you,” she says quietly, sounding a little ashamed, like she has failed them both somehow. “I want you so bad I can barely think - can barely breathe sometimes.”
> 
> “Good,” Anya says, nodding once. “I want you too. Now.”
> 
> “Now?” Raven repeats, unsure even with the start of bruises on her hips and Anya holding her tight.
> 
> There is a larger conversation to be had here - about Raven suffering silently to try and acquiesce to Anya’s wishes, about having more open communication and the validity of Raven’s feelings and wants - but Anya is done talking for now. She has the answer she wants, and that is good enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN 1: This was a gift for dreamsheartstory that got WAY out of hand. It was supposed to be 3k words of fluff with some smut. As it is, this turned into basically a 1/3 of a novel. I flubbed up.
> 
> AN 2: I promised a sex scene, and now I have delievered.
> 
> AN 3: The Lexa-Raven dynamic. There is a bunch of stuff I couldn't get into, but I have it mentally thought out. If I ever grt back to this, I will expand on them A LOT...
> 
> AN 4: As always, I have no beta so this is all raw, unfiltered, hot off the word-doc story...
> 
> AN 5: There is a bunch of texting in this chapter, so I thought I would clarify what they have each other as in their phones. (Note - whenever we see a character name followed by (Me), we are viewing their response in their own phone):
> 
> Anya's phone:  
> My Soul - Lexa  
> Raven R - Raven (eventually she'll be upgraded to My Heart)
> 
> Lexa's phone:  
> My Love - Anya  
> The Raven - Raven (eventually upgraded to My Raven)
> 
> Raven's phone:  
> Boozey Bae - Anya (eventually The Bae)  
> Lexa the Great - Lexa (eventually upgraded to Bae Too)

Raven doesn’t text first the next day (she always texts first, because she has to be up by 8am and likes to live text her stream of consciousness as she gets ready for school, while Anya and Lexa wake up after noon), and Anya is too proud.

After texting Lexa a _M_ _orning my love. Hope you aren’t too hung over,_ and _Re_ _member to take your vitamins - yes they are gross but they help_ , Anya putters around the house, looking for things to fix until work, and looking at her phone every five minutes.

When nothing comes through, she texts Lexa again, a little paranoid that he phone is malfunctioning.

She gets a _‘ssshhhh noise bad light also bad go bother raven’_ text back from her partner, and she smiles and grimaces at the same time.

Lexa can be a bit of a cranky bear when she is hungover, so Anya doesn’t bother her again as she gets ready for work.

As she is heading to the door her phone vibrates again. Expecting it to be Lexa complaining about recovering from her night, she is already smiling when she checks.

 **_Raven R:_ ** _Don’t forget your lunch._

Her smile can’t decide if it wants to get bigger or drop away, and Anya is suddenly happy that no one is around to witness what she is doing.

She settles for a wistful expression as she checks her bag and sees that she, in fact, left her lunch on the table.

Grabbing it, she fires off a text, hoping to get away with getting Raven to open communications again without giving too much ground herself.

 **Anya (Me):** _Thank you. I would have forgotten._

She knows she should just apologize, but she, a bit selfishly, wants to know how she would be received.

 **Raven R:** _i know_

Is the response she gets, and after that radio silence.

 

Midway through her shift Octavia stops by, frowning as she looks around.

“Where’s my space cadet?” the girl asks, plopping down onto the stool beside Raven’s usual seat.

Anya shrugs, a feeling an odd mixture of relief and unease. Raven tells Octavia and Clarke everything, so if she hasn’t told them anything is wrong then maybe it isn’t as bad as she thought.

Except, Raven hasn’t sent another text all day - when she would have sent a small dissertation and several (mostly random) pictures. It’s not that Anya misses it (she does, though she isn’t at a place where she could admit that to herself yet) it’s just that she knows it isn’t a good sign.

“It’s the first day of classes,” the bartender offers, wiping down the wood in front of her and putting a coaster down. “The usual?” she asks, already pouring tequila in a cold glass.

Octavia grunts an affirmative and accepts. “Her office hours ended at 5 o’clock. I would have thought she’s be here by now…”

Anya has no response to that, so she stays quiet.

Clarke wanders in an hour later, raising an eyebrow at the empty stool to Octavia’s left before taking a seat on her girlfriend’s right.

She orders a soda - ‘ _on call later tonight_ ’ she explains, before kissing Octavia and settling in.

None of them mentions Raven again for the evening, but Clarke is colder than she usually is, and Octavia is suspicious.

The couple leaves after another half hour, the younger girl texting so fast Anya is surprised she doesn’t melt the screen on her phone, as the blonde steers her out of the bar.

 

Lexa comes home a day later and immediately notices something is wrong. She quietly texts Raven when Anya only shrugs and goes back to carving details into a commissioned bench.

 **Lexa (Me):**  Sh _ould I be worried?_

The answer comes seconds later.

 **The Raven:** _only if she doesn’t sort her shit out_

 **Lexa (Me):** _She is stubborn, to a fault, but she will ultimately do what is right._

There is a halt in conversation of over ten minutes, though Lexa isn’t worried. She knows Raven is prepping for her next class and will get back to her when she can.

When she does send a message, it makes Lexa smile.

 **The Raven:** _tell her that mercury isn’t in retrograde right now so she needs to find a damn good excuse_

 **The Raven:** _also, i’m not a chocolates kinda gal_

 **The Raven:** _flowers, however, are always good_

 **Lexa (Me):** _Noted :)_

Lexa decides to keep out of it for the most part, though she makes sure the last two texts are on screen when she goes to the bathroom and conveniently leaves her phone on the coffee table.

 

Anya is sweaty-palm-hard-swallowing nervous for the first time since she was a teenager. She stands outside the small office, clutching her cargo to her stomach and frowning, waiting for the last of the co-eds to buzz off.

“Stop skulking in the shadows, you look like a stalker,” she hears Raven call.

The mechanical engineer chuckles, and Anya hears the shuffling of papers on a tin desk.

“Okay Jasper - this looks like a better proposal for your project. Get back to me with your Methods and Supplies sections by the end of the week and we’ll get the ball rolling.”

“Awesome! Later, Teach,” her student says and pops out of the office like he’s on springs.

“Later, chicken nugget,” Raven calls after him. After a few seconds of nothing, Anya hears an ancient rolling chair creak. “You gonna come in or are we doing this in public?”

Standing up straight and steeling herself, Anya moves into the room, closing the door behind her with a free hand.

Raven has risen from her desk and stands, arms crossed over her chest, waiting.

Anya thrusts her full hand forward, presenting Raven with a little sprout in a ceramic pot.

“It won’t happen again,” she says, earnest.

Raven raises an eyebrow and takes the pot. “What won’t happen again?”

“I handled things poorly - taking out my anxiety and fear on you. It is a… bad habit. But I swear to you, I will not do it again.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Raven says, matter-of-fact, not at all malicious.

“I mean it. You deserve better than my behavior, but I hope that you will give me a final chance to prove myself.” Anya steps forward, fists clenched a bit with her conviction.

“Oh my god, you are so sincere it hurts. I can’t even right now.” Raven chuckles, rolling her eyes. “You're like a puppy that chewed up some slippers and feels guilty.”

Anya blinks hard.

“I _am_ sincere,” she agrees cautiously, not quite sure if she should be insulted or not.

“Look, you were a jerk - that’s definitely a thing that happened - and I appreciate your apology. And the…?”

“It’s a coffee plant,” Anya offers, internally pleased at the impressed raised eyebrows and nod that Raven gives her. “It’s like a flower, except useful.”

“Smooth, Woods, very smooth. Anyway, yes, apology and life blood appreciated and accepted.”

Anya narrows her eyes, more confused than suspicious.

“That easily?”

Raven huffs, rolling her eyes.

“Not generally, but we were both overtired and crabby, okay? I was pissed at first, especially because we kinda had this convo already, but… I get it. Trusting me, trusting this, it’s gonna take you time. As long as you are willing to work on your panicked pull-the-ripcord-be-a-dick reaction, I’m willing to be a little understanding.”

Anya isn’t sure how to react, freezes for a moment, and Raven places the sprout on her desk, moving forward and reaching out for Anya’s hand. Anya tentatively takes the offering, eyebrows scrunching together.

“Look, it’s not cool if you treat me poorly, alright? I’ve been through too much to get caught up in someone who is a shitty person. But that isn’t you.”

“How do you know?” Anya asks, hating how uncertain she sounds.

“I know because you are the kind of person who jumps in to help someone in trouble, not for thanks or to score, but because you won’t stand for a bully.” The mechanical engineer grins, winking. “I know because you are the type of person who will sit and listen to a girl rant about things you don’t actually care about for hours to make her feel better.”

“I care-” Anya begins to protest, but Raven just gives her a look and softly squeezes her hand, and she quiets down.

“I know because you care more about making sure everyone else is okay - safe and as happy as possible - over yourself. You make sure the people you care about are taken care of - fed and rested and comfortable - even if it means you go without.”

Anya shrugs at that, looking away, a little embarrassed to be read out loud so honestly.

Raven gently shakes their joined hands until the bartender looks at her again.

“I know because you are the kind of person who swallows her pride and apologizes when it would be easier to just give up. You don’t get a pass with me to be an asshole, but you do get my understanding and my equal willingness to work on this - on us.”

Anya takes a deep breath, chewing on the inside of her lip a bit, refusing to let the emotion swelling in her chest and stomach come up into her throat.

“Think you’re clever, do you?” she manages, and Raven chuckles again.

“Clearly I am a genius,” the younger woman agrees, shrugging.

She takes Anya’s other hand.

“How about an easier promise? How about we both promise to let the other know when they are stepping out of line, and to listen when we are being told? Clarke and I have a codeword we use when we get heated. I bet that could work with us.”

Now it is Anya’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Like a safeword?”

“Sure, if you wanna get kinky about it,” Raven agrees, biting her tongue at the other woman. “We’re both human, we’ll both have days where we are dicks, okay? This is a good compromise I think.”

Nodding, Anya gives a tentative smile.

“You haven’t been particularly difficult yet.”

Raven snorts.

“Oh I will,” she assures. “PT always puts me in a shitty mood, so that’ll be fun. And you weren’t dating me at midterms or finals last time ‘round... Look forward to that, babe.”

“I look forward to not being the only one to step out of line, then,” Anya says grinning, pleased both at the term of endearment and the development of the conversation.

They move forward at the same time, lips meeting a little awkwardly at first but then finding the right rhythm. Anya nips softly at Raven’s bottom lip, soothing the sting with her tongue.

They pull back after a few moments though, both mindful of where they are.

“So,” Raven says, not quite capable of moving out of the circle of Anya’s arms yet.

“So,” Anya echos, blinking fast and trying to get herself under control.

“I think it’s time for the next big step,” Raven says with mock seriousness.

Anya freezes anyway, anxiety squeezing at her stomach.

“Which would be?”

Grinning, Raven kisses the nervous woman’s chin.

“I think you should make me dinner. My place, this Thursday, say around 7?”

“Dinner…?”

Raven nods, deciding to have a little mercy.

“Dinner. Maybe a drink. A movie if you’re good.”

“And this isn’t… code?”

Raven laughs, resting her forehead on Anya’s collarbone.

“Oh my god, how are you even real?”

“Excuse me if my military upbringing left me unprepared for your strange civilian ways,” Anya mutters, but it is more grudgingly resigned to being teased than defensive.

“Right. I forget you and Lexa are army brats.” Raven rolls her eyes. “No code - I am too old for that nonsense. Food, drink, possible cinema enjoyment. Cuddles mandatory, kissing optional.”

Raven smiles fondly, pulling back a little to achieve proper eyes contact.

“We can move slow, okay? I am not pushing for anything you aren’t ready for. I just, I like you, okay? I want to spend time with you.”

Anya sighs, both relieved and a little disappointed. She knows she isn’t ready for _More_ yet, but she doesn't know if she will be able to ask for it when she is.

“You’re willing to be patient?”

Raven nods, firmly, giving Anya’s hips a slighty squeeze.

“Yeah. I mean, I’m not gonna lie, it’s taking all my willpower not to throw you on the desk and get to at least second base, but this - whatever we got going - it’s worth a lot of cold showers.”

Anya closes her eyes, pleased but still a little nervous. She is happy that Raven considers what they have of value enough to wait for her to be ready, but she can’t help but start to wonder about how long the other woman’s patience will last.

“Stop it. Right now. Just relax and trust me, okay?” Raven says, interrupting Anya’s mild spiral of panic before it really gets going.

“Okay,” Anya agrees, opening her eyes. It isn’t as simple as that, but she is willing to try and maybe stubborn enough to succeed.

“Okay,” Raven affirms, and finally pulls away. “Now, you have to go.”

Anya frowns, thrown.

“Am I… not allowed to visit you at work?”

Raven bats her eyelashes. “I’m already five minutes late for class. Five more minutes and the little bastards will walk.”

Anya starts as if she’s been burned.

“I apologize! I didn’t realize I had taken so much of your time.”

“You are too damn much, Woods, seriously,” Raven says, gathering her papers. She moves around Anya, pecking her on the lips as she passes. “Pull the door closed on your way out.” And then she is gone.

Anya stands there for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of being in Raven’s space and the warmth that slowly fills her.

 

Anya cooks Raven dinner on Thursday - grilled salmon with lemon, steamed vegetables and garlic bread.

 

Raven has Anya over Monday and returns the favor, cooking arroz con gandules and her abuela’s pollo guisado.

 

The Thursday after Raven invites Anya and Lexa over, and nervously pulls out all the stops - making pernil and rice and beans from scratch. She even makes dessert - dulce de coco. She barely eats herself, but feeds off of the pleased noises both the other women make.

 

That Monday Lexa takes her aside and thanks her for dinner, assuring Raven that she doesn’t have to invite her if she doesn’t want to, as long as the mechanical engineer respects Lexa and Anya’s relationship. Raven is sweating on the inside, but she swallows her fear and manages to say that she would like to get to know Lexa better too, even if the younger woman isn't interested in her romantically. Lexa just smiles enigmatically and nods, thanking Raven again and hugging her before going back to work.

 

Thursday becomes date night. Sometimes Lexa joins them and sometimes she doesn’t. When she is absent, Anya and Raven make sure there are enough leftovers for her to have lunch the next day.

 

Midterms come, and as promised, Raven enters what she likes to call, ‘ _I wish someone would’_ mode. She is prickly, never outright nasty but short and snappish. Anya learns when to use the codeword - which Raven lets her pick and so ends up being much more on the nose than Raven would have chosen, _Withdraw_ \- and talk things out, and when to back off.

 

The week before Thanksgiving, Anya finally has enough courage to invite Raven over to her and Lexa’s.

Lexa chooses to go out for the evening, joining Lincoln, Clarke and Octavia for dinner and karaoke (Lexa is secretly unbelievably good at karaoke, though Clarke will end up crowned Queen of Karaoke by the end of their night). She informs Anya that she will be crashing at Lincoln’s, but will be back before noon in the morning.

A part of Anya is anxious to be alone with Raven - Lexa has always been better at handling interpersonal situations, and having her there would make Anya less nervous - but another part is relieved. Raven has been good about letting Anya set the pace in private, only taking things so far (Raven calls it _second base_ but Anya can’t for the life of her understand how baseball could be a proper metaphor for what they are doing), but the younger woman is much more reserved with Lexa around, and Anya wants her to understand that _this is it_ \- that she is ready.

Lexa checks her makeup in the mirror in the bathroom while Anya leans against the doorway. It’s been awhile since Lexa has had a night out, and she is clearly looking forward to it.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Anya teases, moving to stand behind her lover and kiss the back of her neck.

Lexa winks, a small smile playing on her mouth. “Then I’d never have fun.”

Huffing, Anya wraps her arms fully around Lexa, pulling her firmly back into her body.

“You could stay. _That_ could be fun.”

Lexa gives her a look in the mirror.

“Stop stalling,” she says, instead of dignifying that with a direct response. She turns in Anya’s arms and kisses her, warm and soft and reassuring. “See you in the morning.”

Raven arrives as Lexa is leaving, the two exchanging pleasantries for a few moments. Anya observes the interaction, pleased that Raven seems to genuinely like speaking with Lexa, before the two say goodbye and she and Raven are left alone.

She lets Raven wander around the modestly sized but comfortable apartment, watching as she runs fingers over bookshelves and chairs - objects clearly built or at least detailed by Anya and sometimes Lexa.

Oak the cat wanders over and sniffs Raven’s leg (the dark haired woman is standing, and bending over to offer a hand would be too difficult), sneezing once at her before flicking her tail and moving away in deliberate disinterest.

“Well hello to you too,” Raven mutters, rolling her eyes.

Anya can’t help but be a little charmed at a grown woman feeling jilted by a domesticated animal.

Dinner is good - something simple and tasty but light - and they end up on the couch afterwards, first having a drink and talking with the TV set to low on some Science Channel program (it’s a show about the production of consumable objects that Anya plays in the bar sometimes and that she and Raven had spent a slow Wednesday bonding over).

The talking stops with the last of the drink, and Anya wastes no time in pulling Raven to her.

When she makes a decision, she treats it like an imperative, and moves single mindedly towards her goal. This is no different.

They spend a short while building towards where they usually stop. This is familiar territory for Anya, and she loses herself in the moment.

Raven’s hair is incredibly soft between Anya’s fingers as she runs her hands through it. It gives her a small thrill every time she musses up the normally well kept ponytail, and she smiles into their kiss as she takes the opportunity to discard the hair tie.

Anya’s hands move down Raven’s body, stroking her sides and squeezing her hips, as her lips move down to the younger woman’s throat.

“No marks,” Raven manages, moving her head to allow Anya better access.

Anya makes a non-committal noise, but resolves to behave. (The first time they had let things escalate, the bartender had been a little overcome with the freedom of being allowed to touch her, and she had ended up leaving bruises that Octavia and Bellamy had teased about and Raven’s boss had raised an eye over.)

Raven sighs, hands slipping under Anya’s shirt to find bare skin. She is lying on top of Anya, shifted at an angle that takes the pressure off her back and leg.

Raven is going to be good. She promised Anya she would go as slow as the other woman needed, and she meant it. No matter _how_ _hard_ it is to keep that promise with teasing hands moving to cup her through her bra, and a warm mouth moving to suck and kiss below her collarbone.

She will be good. She promised.

They spend long minutes like that, working each other up, until they are breathing uneven and pressed close enough to feel each other’s heart beats.

Raven’s head drops onto Anya’s shoulder with a groan, and she moves Anya’s hands from the danger zone of the tops of her thighs back up to her hips and ribs for what seems like the millionth time.

“You have to stop that if we’re supposed to be taking it slow,” she scolds, tone more breathy than admonishing, pulling back to try for a glare (she fails, but it’s the thought that counts).

“Stop what?” Anya asks, gently biting at the side of Raven’s neck in that way that makes her squirm away but also closer at the same time.

She moves her hands back to where they were, thumbs running along the creases between thighs and hips, digging in a little to show that she is aware of what she is doing.

“You’re… killin’ me here, Woods.” Raven says, biting back a little harder, taking the flesh of Anya’s upper chest in her mouth and using enough force to sting a little.

Anya moans, using her hold to pull Raven’s lower body more firmly against her, so she can feel the heat of her through her pants.

“You feel lovely,” the bartender murmurs, grinding upwards unconsciously.

“Seriously…” Raven says, feeling too good to be embarrassed that she is panting. Hot sparks of pleasure crackle upwards from where she is pressed against Anya, making her shiver a bit. “If you… If you don’t stop, I’m so not... responsible for my actions.”

Instead of answering with words, Anya’s leans up and captures Raven's lips in a rough kiss, pressing her leg upward and pulling the younger woman down by the thighs again.

“Fuck! Babe, please…” Raven shudders, moving her hands to press against Anya’s chest, using them to separate their upper bodies. “ _Withdraw_.”

Anya freezes but doesn’t let go.

“Anya, babe… I can’t. I can’t have you _do_ _that_ and then pull away. It’s-it’s too much, okay?” Raven sounds a little like she is pleading, on the edge, sad and frustrated and wanting.

Anya smiles, emotion welling up in her chest. That Raven is thinking about her needs and comfort even now, when she is caught up in her own desire makes the bartender feel more certain about her decision.

Anya kisses her, softer and sweeter than before but with no less heat.

“What do you want?” she asks, resting her forehead against Raven’s.

“Whatever you’re up for,” Raven answers.

It’s both true and complete bullshit.

“ _What_ do _you_ want?” Anya asks firmly, thumbs stroking the other woman’s thighs.

Raven’s eyes flutter closed and she takes a shuddering breath.

“You are making being respectful real hard right now, Woods,” she says instead of answering directly, whining a bit.

“Raven. Please? Tell me what you want.”

Raven sighs, but it isn’t in desire. It sounds more like defeat.

“You have to know that I want you,” she says quietly, sounding a little ashamed, like she has failed them both somehow. “I want you so bad I can barely think - can barely _breathe_ sometimes.”

“Good,” Anya says, nodding once. “I want you too. Now.”

“Now?” Raven repeats, unsure even with the start of bruises on her hips and Anya holding her tight.

There is a larger conversation to be had here - about Raven suffering silently to try and acquiesce to Anya’s wishes, about having more open communication and the validity of Raven’s feelings and wants - but Anya is done talking for now. She has the answer she wants, and that is good enough.

“Yes.”

She surges upward, one arm moving around Raven’s back to pull the woman against her, mindful of her lower back, the other slipping up to tangle in her hair again.

“If. You want. This. May I. Take you to bed?” she asks between kisses.

“Please,” Raven agrees, nodding.

Knowing that Raven prefers to get around on her own, Anya releases her and lets her stand up first, then takes her hand and leads her to the bedroom.

Raven hesitates at the door, though, pulling Anya up short.

“Is, uh, is this like, _cool_?” she stumbles, but Anya knows what she means.

The intimacy they will share - are sharing - in Anya and Lexa’s space. The _bed_.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.” Raven doesn’t hesitate now, and it makes Anya feel light and the edges of what could be happiness and certain other four letter words creep into her chest.

“She knows. She is okay with this. She just wanted us to have space.”

“Yeah?”

Smirking a little, Anya digs her phone out of her pocket and fires off a text as Raven looks at her, caught between ‘ _I know you did not just_ ’ and ‘ _oh my god you just did_.’

Seconds later, Raven’s phone vibrates in her pocket.

 **Lexa the Great:** _Make sure to keep her away from your neck if you don’t want to be marked - she can’t help herself. She likes a firm hand in her hair so it won’t be hard._

Raven actually blushes, much to Anya’s amusement, but types out and sends a response - _why do i feel more turned on than awkward about this exchange?_ \- then types and sends another.

Anya’s phone vibrates and she looks down at it.

 **Raven R:** _so i hear you like your hair pulled?_

Anya rolls her eyes and tosses her phone onto the bed, crooking her finger until Raven comes forward, still a little unsure but more than willing to go with the flow.

“May I undress you?” the bartender asks, arms circling Raven and pull her into a loose embrace.

Raven blushes again, this time frowning.

“The brace kinda makes it awkward…” she explains, looking away.

Anya smiles and kisses her briefly.

“Show me, then?”

Raven looks back, eyes a little shiny (Anya knows this is one of the only things the younger woman is self conscious about, and wants to reassure her as naturally as possible) and nods.

The process isn’t particularly long, but the difference in strength and mobility is noticeable. After undoing the straps and latches, Raven sits to take the brace is off, and allows Anya to rest it near the bed.

“Now the rest?” Anya asks, breezing through, wanting to show Raven that the step isn’t extra, just a part of the process.

“Yeah,” Raven replies. The frown is back, but she takes a deep breath and nods resolutely to herself. “There are… scars. I’m not ashamed, so you don’t have to be precious about them, but… I want you to be ready.”

Anya nods too, slowly.

“Okay…”

She has never seen the scars, though she has felt some of them when things have gotten hot and heavy.

“They had to do some ruggedly fast Wild West-style surgery to save my life and my ability to walk, and… they didn’t have time to think about what it would look like.”

Anya moves closer, pulling her own shirt over her head and tossing it aside.

“Okay.”

Raven lets Anya take off her shirt and her bra but removes her own pants, shimming out of them quickly, so that she is left only in her underwear.

“Would it be better for you on your back or on your stomach?” Anya asks, and she could be talking about minimizing pain or maximizing pleasure.

Raven smiles, oddly comfortable now that she is mostly nude.

“Let's play it by ear?”

Anya nods and shucks her own pants and bra quickly, then helps Raven scoot back in the bed to lean against the headboard.

Raven reaches out for the bartender, who comes forward and straddles her non damaged leg.

“Is this okay?”

“Shut up and kiss me, Woods.”

It is surprisingly easy to find their way back to the passion they had achieved earlier. Soon enough, Anya is groaning as she grinds down on Raven’s thigh, and Raven is panting against Anya’s throat as the other woman cups her firmly through her underwear.

“I want to go slow, but I want to feel you cumming around my fingers more,” Anya whispers, biting down on Raven’s earlobe.

Raven moans loud and nods sharply, eyes rolling up into her head a little as Anya pushes soaked panties aside and strokes through her wetness.

Anya grins. “Is that alright with you?”

Instead of answering, Raven wraps an arm around Anya’s shoulder and uses the hold to lift herself so her lover can finally slip off the last of her clothing.

Still holding on, she lets Anya move her again, so that she is laying on her back.

Anya lies next to Raven on her side, hand running over the younger woman’s curves, everywhere at once.

“Explore later, stop teasing now.” Raven says, going for commanding but coming out way more like pleading.

Anya ignores her for the moment, hand skimming along Raven’s hip and thigh, up to her breasts, back down to glide between her legs before starting the circuit again.

Growling, Raven reaches up and threads her fingers into Anya’s ash blonde hair, getting a solid hold and forcing the other woman to look at her.

“Anya. Fuck me now, or I swear to god I will kill you.”

Anya’s response is to moan and bite down on Raven's shoulder. She finds her lover's clit with sure fingers, circling it a few times before rubbing firmly.

She stays there for a few minutes, alternating indirect and direct contact, enjoying the way Raven’s hips twitch and squirm.

When the younger woman is panting again, hold gone loose in Anya’s hair, the bartender moves to kiss her breasts and suck on her nipples, running her fingers around Raven’s slit a few times, coating them in her wetness before pressing two of them inside.

“Fuck,” they both sigh at once, Anya sagging against Raven a little, fingers momentarily held in place by tightly clenching inner walls.

Then Anya begins to move, a slow but steady pace, and Raven pulls her down so she is lying half on top of her.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Anya manages to say, eyes closed, distracted by _finally_ being inside Raven.

“I’ll… let you know,” Raven groans.

Anya tries to keep control - she really does - but the feel of Raven, the sounds the younger woman makes and the way she moves are too much. She raises up on her free arm, the position allowing her more power and control, and speeds up her motions, caught up in being the cause of the sharp gasps and deep moans Raven is making.

Raven wraps her right arm around Anya’s shoulders, fingers catching the waves of hair at the base of her lover’s neck, and uses the leverage to thrust back against Anya’s hand.

They are moving together, working towards the release Raven feels building, hot and electric inside her. When the dark haired woman can’t take it anymore, she reaches between her own legs with her free hand and rubs her own clit.

Immediately her eyes scrunch shut and her body starts to shudder, out of her control.

Anya pumps hard and deep, and corkscrews her fingers, and Raven circles and flicks and rubs at her own clit, almost desperately close.

“I’m gonna go,” she gasps, right leg wrapping around Anya’s leg to force her _in_ and _deep_ and _tight_. “J-just push in, d-don’t move. Too much.”

“Can you look at me?” Anya begs, chest heaving, barely able to breathe with how beautiful Raven is.

Raven’s eyes flutter open, hardly more than slits.

“I’m so close…”

“Cum for me, then,” Anya says, pushing deep and curling her fingers.

Raven stops breathing, working her clit fast.

And suddenly she’s _there_ , body locking up, muscles tight, eyes rolling up in her head, mouth moving wordlessly as she crashes into orgasm.

It lasts for almost a solid minute, and Anya is a little smug as her lover finally comes down, body relaxing into a boneless lassitude.

“Fuuuuuck yessss,” Raven croons, smile wide and satisfied. Her eyes have slid closed again. “Gimme a sec to recover?”

“This was enough for me,” Anya replies, trying to still the twitching of her legs and ignore the throbbing between them, not wanting to push.

“Liar,” Raven mumbles, reaching out blindly to touch her lover.

She scores a direct hit, stroking her fingers over Anya’s thigh and up between her legs, smirking at the grunt of need she gets and the wetness she finds there.

“Raven…” Anya moans, moving so that she is pressed against the recovering woman’s side.

Raven manages to crack open one eye. “Up,” she says, pulling her hand away and using it to pat Anya’s ass (she leaves behind a sticky partial hand print, and it brings her a little thrill).

“Huh?” Anya asks, eloquent, blinking rapidly.

“You, up here, I want to taste you.”

The words are like lightning, striking Anya at the base of her spine and her core at once.

“Jesus,” she breathes, but moves quickly to comply.

Raven twists her own hair into a bun to get it out of the way and helps guide Anya where she wants her with gentle hands. Her mouth waters a little, and she can’t help but chuckle at herself.

“Something funny?” Anya asks, more impatient than insulted.

“Just me, babe,” Raven says, laying soft kisses on the soft skin of Anya’s inner thighs and up and down her outer lips. “I’ve been thinking about this for a _long_ time.”

She extends her tongue and licks slowly, loving the minute tremble that runs through the powerful legs that bracket her head.

“H-how long?” Anya gasps, one hand shooting forward to grip the headboard and steady herself, the other climbing her body to toy with her own breasts.

“Since I saw you,” Raven admits, using her lower lips to tease at slick, overheated flesh.

She uses the tip of her tongue to spread Anya’s lips apart and then flattens it to run over her soaked opening.

“Fuck! Please?”

Raven doesn’t even think about making her beg, just plunges her tongue inside and uses her lips on her clit.

Anya curls her body slightly, breath catching in her chest. It feels so fucking good she can’t think, can barely function enough not to collapse her weight down or grab Raven’s hair and force her deeper.

Raven’s arms come up to guide Anya, encouraging her to move against her mouth and ride Raven’s face. She does, panting and shivering and moaning loud, rocketing towards the edge almost embarrassingly fast.

Her blood seems to turn to fire, her nerves electric, and she cums without warning, chanting Raven’s name over and over like it is a prayer.

She leans against the wall in front of her to keep from falling, and Raven eases her through her orgasm with soft strokes of her tongue and lips.

When Anya’s strength returns, she swings her leg over and shimmies down to lay on her back beside her unbearably smug lover.

“Hope that was _satisfactory_.”

Instead of replying, Anya turns her head and kisses Raven, hard, tasting herself on her mouth.

“Takin’ that as a yes,” Raven says, a little breathless.

Chuckling, Anya kisses her more softly, cupping the younger woman’s cheek.

“Continue your shit talk - we’ll see how long it lasts with my face between _your_ legs.”

That shuts Raven right up, but she smiles like a crocodile, raising an eyebrow.

By the time they finally collapse, too exhausted to continue, Anya has lost count of how many orgasms they’ve had (that’s a lie of course, because she has had 4 and Raven 6, and that means the bartender is winning).

She lies on Raven’s right, sliding her arm under the other woman’s pillow so she can hold her.

Raven groans as she turns - this time not in pleasure but in pain.

“Are you alright?” Anya asks, concerned but not wanting to overstep.

Raven nods, burying her face in Anya’s chest.

“Was not expecting this much _vigorous activity_ tonight. Forgot my pain meds.”

Anya doesn’t know how to react - apologizing for amazing sex seems almost blasphemous, but she wishes she had considered Raven’s injuries more in her enthusiasm.

“Hey,” Raven says softly, looking up at Anya with something warm and fond and a little scary in her expression. “That was amazing. You felt amazing. It’s been… a long time since anyone’s treated me like I wasn’t made of glass.”

Anya runs her free hand gently up and down Raven’s back, avoiding touching the scars directly but moving around them, willing the muscles to relax and give Raven even a few hours of peace.

“You are strong, there is no doubt,” Anya says, matter-of-fact. “Still, I wish I could relieve the pain.”

Raven chuckles, the sound downright lecherous.

“I bet.”

“Again?” Anya asks, intrigued.

“Ha, no. Don’t think I can go another round, babe. I can barely keep my eyes open.”

Anya nods in the dark, kissing Raven’s temple.

“Sleep then.”

Raven doesn’t bother arguing, only settles into Anya’s chest and lays a kiss over a developing bruise (in the shape of her own teeth, of which she is very proud).

“Night babe.”

“Goodnight, Raven.”

Anya snags the blanket from the foot of the bed with her toes and drags it up far enough to pull it over them by hand.

She kisses Raven’s temple again, basking in the feel of holding her without reserve.

In the morning Anya hears the door click open, and feels Lexa come into the room.

Her partner stands over the bed for a few moments, no doubt observing the way that Raven has curled around Anya’s back and how Anya, who lies in the middle of the bed, has one hand over the arm that Raven rests on her stomach and her other curled around Lexa’s pillow.

Anya’s cracks an eye open, both terrified and interested in how things will play out. Lexa did not say Raven had to go, though Anya had planned to wake them both up early and make breakfast so they would at least be dressed by the time her partner came home. (Lexa is earlier than Anya had thought she would be, and she secretly thinks Lexa wanted it this way.)

Without a word, Lexa strips down to her underwear and moves to Anya’s unoccupied side, slipping into the covers and her lover’s arms.

“Morning…” Anya murmurs, swallowing hard.

Lexa smiles gently and kisses her.

“Ssshhh. Too early to be awake,” Lexa whispers, squirming her way into a comfortable position and firmly pulling Anya’s arm around her waist (staking her claim, maybe, though she takes the arm that is not resting on Raven’s).

Raven mumbles in her sleep and moves closer, arm bumping into Lexa’s front. She lifts her head, one eye barely opening, moving her arm away as if to get up with a quiet  _sorry_.

Before she can retreat fully, Lexa reaches out and tucks the arm back into place around their lover.

“Stay,” she says simply.

Raven hesitates then nods, rubbing the knuckles of her hand against Lexa’s stomach in thanks before immediately conking back out.

Anya is still between them, not quite sure what to think. There are a million things that she wants to say, that should probably be discussed, but Lexa just snuggles close and kisses her chin.

“We’ll talk about this over breakfast,” she murmurs. “The three of us.”

Anya thinks she might have been frightened, except that Lexa is smiling reassuringly, Raven is snoring gently behind her, and she is warmer and feels more secure than she has in a long, long time.

“Okay,” she agrees, settling back down and taking a deep breath. “Okay.”

Closing her eyes, she is asleep within a minute, a testament to how safe she feels, and Lexa follows close behind.

  
**_fin_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well folks, this is the end. Maybe one day I will go back and expland on this and include all the stuff I had to leave out...

**Author's Note:**

> The players, ther ages, and what they do:
> 
> Anya: 29 - senoir bartender/floor manager at The Backwoods
> 
> Lexa: 25 - bartender at The Backwoods
> 
> Raven: 27 - aeronautical mechanical engineer/adjunct professor
> 
> Clarke: 27 - resident at Mercy Heights Children's Hospital
> 
> Octavia: 23 - personal trainor/professional powerlifter


End file.
